


If You Give A Spy A Pillow

by Azulet



Series: Friendships [18]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Best Friends, Cute, Cute Ending, Developing Friendships, Epic Friendship, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Implied Illya Kuryakin/Gaby Teller, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, No Smut, Pillow Fights, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 05:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13024227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azulet/pseuds/Azulet
Summary: For some people, you're always young enough to have a pillow fight.





	If You Give A Spy A Pillow

It wasn’t Illya’s fault.

Mostly, it was Gaby’s fault, but Illya preferred to blame Napoleon.

They had just returned to their hotel suite, and Gaby and promptly walked into her room and collapsed on her bed.

After pouring himself a glass of wine, and taking his time enjoying it, Napoleon had tried to communicate with Gaby. Gaby had not even glanced up, simply throwing a pillow at the doorway where he was standing. Luckily, he had left his glass in the living room. Unluckily, Illya’s teammates had the approximate maturity of ten-year-olds, so Napoleon simply threw the pillow back at Gaby.

Gaby seemed to take this as a declaration of war, and started hurling pillows at Napoleon.

“Peril!” he yelped, holding up his arms to deflect the barrage, “Help! Your fiancée is attacking me!”

Illya narrowed his eyes, but Napoleon didn’t notice, being engaged in full-scale pillow warfare. Getting up from his seat in the living room, Illya fully intended to intervene, but his plan was ruined by a pillow to the stomach.

“Stop it,” he ordered, pointing to both his partners in turn with the pillow, “You are acting like children.”

Gaby just stuck her tongue out at him, and then yelped when Napoleon threw a pillow at her. Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Illya attempted to intervene by standing it the doorway, but that just gave Gaby and Napoleon another target. Cowboy actually managed to lob a pillow _over_ Illya’s head at Gaby.

“Why don’t you come in here and try that to my face!” Gaby yelled. She sounded angry, but Illya could tell it was fake anger.

“I believe I was invited,” Cowboy said, waiting for Illya to get out of his way. He grudgingly moved aside, and Solo ran into the room, protecting his head with his arms.

Not able to see where he was going through the flurry of pillows and his own arms, Napoleon ran into the bed.

Gaby yelled gleefully and started repeatedly hitting him with a pillow. Napoleon laughed, and rolled himself further onto the bed so he was laying on top of Gaby’s legs, pinning them to the bed.

Illya’s instincts were yelling at him to intervene, _he’s hurting her,_ but Gaby was laughing, so he restrained himself. Well, at least this had gotten her out of her grumpy mood.

Gaby tried to pull her legs out from under Napoleon, but he latched on, not letting her move them. She started prying him off, and from there it devolved into a pillow-wrestling-fight.

Illya, not entirely comfortable with the familiarity of their tussling and the pillows being thrown pell-mell around the room, started to leave, but was stopped by the sound of his name.

“Illya!”

He turned to see Gaby, panting, sitting partially on top of Napoleon. He, too, had stopped fighting, and was watching Illya, apparently unconcerned by the German mechanic resting on top of him.

“What?” he snapped, then immediately regretted his sharp tone when Gaby pouted.

“Don’t leave,” she said, somewhere between whining and wheedling, “Come on! It’s fun!”

Illya baulked, unconsciously taking a step backwards. Was she suggesting he should join in their childish game?

“Careful, you might scare him,” Solo’s warning was directed at Gaby, but he was grinning at Illya, knowing perfectly well that he was trapped.

“I am not _scared_ ,” Illya grumbled, mentally consigning himself to his fate.

“Well, then, come here!” Gaby insisted, motioning him over.

“But…” his weak protest was drowned out by Solo and Gaby. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his back turned to them. Arms were flung over his shoulders, and he recognized the smell of Gaby’s perfume.

“See?” she said, leaning against his back, “ _Fun_.”

Cowboy hit them in the heads with a pillow.

Illya spun to face him, growling. Cowboy threw the pillow ineffectively against him and rolled further away, grabbing another pillow.

Gaby got up, standing on the bed, and let herself fall on top of Solo. There was a squeak from somewhere beneath her, and Illya smiled.

Maybe this _could_ be fun.


End file.
